


CW Drabbles

by Niko_Niko_Neek



Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Gen, Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niko_Niko_Neek/pseuds/Niko_Niko_Neek
Summary: A collection of short Drabbles/scenes that take place within the same setting. Just for fun, really.
Relationships: Viola Eade/Todd Hewitt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Todd Hewitt makes a friend.

It wasn’t the first time Todd Hewitt had been limping his way back home bruised up, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was, however, one of the few times where he found himself resenting the long walk back to his house from the school, and wishing yet again that his county would spend a little extra on a proper school bus to ferry kids to and from. Problem was, Prentisstown wasn’t near big enough to warrant such a spenditure, and the school didn’t have enough kids attending to justify it.

Todd had argued with Ben and Cillian in a nearly cyclical nature as soon as he’d turned twelve that by his age, half the boys in his class had dropped out to help their families either on the farms or in the shops, and he for one wanted to be one of them. It was like a rite of passage. Ben, however, would hear none of it, and so Todd seemed destined to look like a kid for the next several years.

The wheat stalks whisper against one another as he continued his way down the old road. The dead squirrel that Manchee always stopped to sniff around at was gone, probably eaten by something or other, not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered in the moment was that his knee was killing him, and a glance down revealed that his jeans had been torn just over it. 

“Fuckin’ Davey,” he mutters, and is momentarily satisfied with how the swear word sounds.

“Does it hurt much?”

He jumps a little at the voice behind him-trust the new girl to be so creepy. He was dimly aware that he’d probably been too distracted to actually notice she’d been walking a little ways behind him, but is more inclined to believe she just possessed some superhuman ability to sneak up on people. It wouldn’t surprise him with how different she looks-too clean, maybe. Too quiet.

“Whadda you want?” Todd demands, glaring. The anger isn’t genuine, and mostly comes from a source of wounded pride.

She falters a little, but it doesn’t last long, and her expression slips back to the unreadable. “I saw that older boy kick you. I thought you could use some help.”

“Well, I don’t.” he replies, hefting his messenger bag and continuing on. “What’re you following’ me for, anyway? Don’t you and your pa live up that way?” He gestures vaguely behind him.

In response, the girl-he forgets her name, Violet maybe-jogs a little until she can fall into step beside him. “No. We live a little ways up the road from you, by the church. That’s where my father’s clinic is. That’s why I _thought_ I’d offer to stop there, since you got beat up, but if you don’t seem to _need_it-”

“I didn’t get _beat up._” Her offer is considerate and makes sense, which only makes Todd resent her all the more. “Besides, Prentiss got the worst of it, anyway.”

There’s silence that passes between them that prompts Todd to talk again. Something about the new girl makes him want to explain himself in some way.

“....I don’t go lookin’ for scuffles like that,” He kicks a stray bit of asphalt, which skitters across the road. “People just don’t leave me alone.”

It’s quiet again, but then he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm, and only there for a moment.

“...I get that,” she says with a small nod as her hand returns to her side, and though he’s determined not to look at her, he can feel her looking at him. “You don’t seem like you like to fight much, Todd Hewitt.”

“S’ just Todd,” he mumbles.

“I’m just Viola.” She stops and sticks a hand out for him. “Viola Eade.”

Todd squints. “Eade?”

“E-A-D-E.”

The combination of letters mean little to him, but he shakes her hand anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got inspired to continue this after listening to Dolly Parton's Bluegrass album. Thanks, Dolly.
> 
> Also, my knowledge of the region where Todd and Viola live in this fic is based mostly off of visits to my grandmother's place in Charlottesville, as well as a farmhouse my extended family owns. If I get anything wrong, I apologize!

“Maaaaaaan-Cheeeee!!”

Todd’s voice rang out loud and clear-it had to, in order to avoid getting drowned in the sea of cicada screams and cricket symphonies. He had to lift his boots high over the ground with each step to avoid getting his ankles caught in the tall grass, making him do an exceptionally stupid-looking march. Manchee, his terrier, of course pays no mind at all to his masters’ predicament, bounding full force ahead with his tongue trailing out of his mouth.

“Get back here, goddammit!!” Manchee, of course, listened like a rock, continuing to gallop his way forward. Todd could almost feel his blood pressure rising-the sun had set already, and though the early evening had enough light to see by, it wouldn’t be for that long. The acreage that Ben and Cillian owned was not all that large in comparison to some of the bigger farms that boarded the dirt road, but it was large enough for a little dog to get lost and wind up mauled by bobcats or foxes or worse.

Unfortunately, Todd is the only one who seems to know that, as Manchee plunged headlong into the line of trees which bordered their field. The woods were hardly thick-a sad excuse for woods, really, as it only lasted a few paces before the pavement road marked where they had cut the trees down to make way for the small neighborhood which had been built, pushed almost rudely into where the old farmstead used to be. Realtors had waited with documents and pen ready when the old man who owned the place got sick, and were knocking on the front door with a cash offer as soon as he had breathed his last.

Great. So now he was heading in the only possible direction where a neighbor might get pissed off. When he spotted a figure far ahead, and Manchee sprinting full-throttle towards it, he felt his stomach twist. Manchee wouldn’t bite-never did, even when scared-but that didn’t mean this person wouldn’t be a pain in the ass anyway.

It took him a second to get close enough to recognise Viola Eade. Her hair, black and cut short to her chin, was tied back into a very small ponytail. At first, he felt his shoulders tense, ready to go on the defensive. However, Viola knelt as soon as Manchee approached, giving him the same kind of scratches and pets as though he’d been her dog the whole time.

“You live here?”

At hearing Todd, she stood up once again. “Sure. My parents live in the house just a short walk away. Close enough to bitch about the equipment running early in the morning, anyway.”

He shrugged. “Gotta get work done.”

“I didn’t say it bothered me.” Her eyes drifted over to take in the house across the fields, a strange and almost wistful expression creeping into her face. “I would kill to have that kind of space. Even a neighborhood is too close for me, really.”

Todd wrinkled his nose. “Not when you gotta get up at four. You wouldn’t like it then.”

“What, watching the sunrise? You don’t know how good you have it here,” Viola remarked with a shake of her head. Todd felt a sting of annoyance at her words. They struck him as condescending.

Really, everything about Viola Eade struck him as condescending. From her weird haircut, to her perfect grades, to her house which no doubt make his look like a worn-out shack, to her guaranteed future.

“It’s just work. That’s all it is.” He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, glowering in the direction of the farmhouse. “But not me. I’m gonna get out of here eventually. I’m signing up for the army.”

Her head whips over at the last sentence, which he notes with some satisfaction. “The military?” she says, slowly, as if pronouncing a foreign word.

Todd nods. “Soon as I turn seventeen.”

There is only quiet in response, and he quickly feels the urge to fill it. “They got money, you know. Free classes. You’re set for life.”

“Is that what they tell you guys?” Viola asks quietly.

His confidence is shaken somewhat, but his pride is too high to make it obvious. “It’s all there is to do around here. That or just keep on workin’. And I don’t wanna end up dying here.”

Viola smiles, bitterly. “So you’d rather just die somewhere else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

At his feet, Manchee whines-probably now realizing he hadn’t had his dinner yet. Tood heaves a sigh that comes from his whole chest, shoulders slumping on the exhale. Above them, the sky is quickly turning dark-soon, Cillian would probably stick his head out of the window and holler for them both.

“I gotta get back-”

“What is that?”

The sudden jolt in Viola’s voice, along with the speed at which she rises to her feet, makes Todd think of a bear or a cougar. “What?” His head swivels from left to right. In his head, he swears at Cillian and Ben for not letting him own a knife yet. “Whatcha mean?”

“Those…” Viola pints forward, and Todd looks in time to see the abdomen of a bug blinking a bright yellow. It’s joined by another, and another, and soon the air seems to be filled with a swarm of soft, blinking lights.

He blinks. “Thos’re fireflies. Lightning bugs, you know.”

Her eyes are the size of dinner places. Viola moves forward slowly, dreamlike, lips slightly parted. One hand reaches out to try and touch one.

“You’re not gonna catch ‘em like that,” Todd comments. “You gotta get a jar or somethin’.”

Viola doesn’t seem to register him. A thought crosses his mind. “....You’ve never seen them before?”

She shakes her head. “They’re beautiful.”

Todd folds his arms. Fireflies are a common sight as the months got warmer, mostly just something to bat at when they flew too close to your face. But, watching how awestruck Viola is, he can’t help but figure they are sort of pretty.

“.....They’re alright,” he admits.

The cicadas and crickets are still screaming away, but for a moment, with the two of them standing there, it seems quiet.


End file.
